


Let's Be Something We Haven't Yet.

by withoutwords



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part, he figures, is that he wasn’t even at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Be Something We Haven't Yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I was waiting to see the doctor and this happened. There is literally no plot _or_ porn.

Danny can hear Steve before he sees him, the scuff of his boots and the gruff, _stall me and I’ll show you one of the many ways I can hurt you_ , tone of his voice. It’s only failed to intimidate a handful of times, usually on those who have nothing to lose; and Danny remembers the frail, bespectacled kid at the front desk. He doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Danny?”

Danny sighs and raises his good arm, feeling the stretch of it in his ribs. He’s barefoot – he can’t remember why – and perched on the edge of a gurney, the sight of Steve with his shoulders back almost a relief. When he’s there he’s there, right in Danny’s space, reducing the world to just this, to his concern. Danny breathes.

“What’d they say?”

“I haven’t been seen.”

“You haven’t been…” Steve starts, a little twitch of his head as if clearing water from his ears. “Wow. You mean you didn’t rant at them about the state of our health system and why innocent people have to suffer at the hands of the despotic and money hungry- ” 

“Well,” Danny cuts in, and Steve’s joking, just trying to make him smile, but it won’t work. Danny’s been given something to help with the pain, but it might as well be natural herbs and prayer. He’s not feeling it. “Obama’s down the hall and Bieber’s in Room 3 so - ”

“Bieber?”

“I have a teenage daughter and a broken arm, Steven, cut me some slack.”

“How do you know it’s broken if you haven’t been seen?”

“I’m a detective. Also, shut up.”

Steve presses up against Danny’s good side to sit down; his hand soft on Danny’s thigh and his head ducked in close enough Danny can smell the lingering remnants of his deodorant. “You okay?” he asks quietly, and Danny’s too tender to yell. Last week he’d argued with Steve about his need to ask questions he already knows the answer to, but apparently it didn’t sink in.

“I’m _great_.”

The worst part, he figures, is that he wasn’t even at work. He spent five long days risking life and limb for God and country and when he does some simple, mundane task like climb a ladder – _that’s_ when he gets hurt. He’s a Grade A detective but he’s terrible at life. He’s always said it. 

“I told you I’d do it tomorrow.”

“Yes, please, start an argument with me, babe. Let’s see how that goes.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Please don’t. Don’t say words, don’t do that face, don’t anything that doesn’t involve you being worried about your poor, injured lover who could be home with a beer and a blowjob and instead gets to be in the ER on a Saturday night.”

A nurse passes by, throwing a look over her shoulder, and Danny grits his teeth. He knows he sounds like a child. He knows that next to Steve, with his clothes still crisp and his face flushed from running all the way here (some knight in shining armour), he knows he’s pathetic. He’s just glad to have the excuse for a change.

“A – I’m sorry a _blowjob_?”

“Which part confuses you?”

“Well, the part where you said it out loud, for one.”

Danny just huffs at him, wincing when he tries to move his arm into a more comfortable place. Steve’s right. Where he’s surprisingly frank about sex, Danny likes to tease and cajole until Steve gets the picture. Steve’s taken orders since he was old enough to hold a gun. Danny doesn’t want that for them.

“How’s the pain?” Steve asks, quiet again, his breath pooling at Danny’s neck. Danny closes his eyes against the warmth of it. “Bearable?”

“Yeah, I think. I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

The thing is, they’re new. Which Danny laughed about at first, because apparently being neck deep in each other’s lives for years doesn’t equate to throwing nudity and orgasms into the mix. It shouldn’t be that big of a change, but it is.

A good change, but scary too; the teeth rattling kind, when you’re clinging to the railing wondering when the floor will give way beneath you. If Steve’s gone, he’s not sure how hard he’ll fall. Or where the hell he’ll land.

“You want me to find someone?”

“No – maybe – just,” Danny tilts his head enough that it rests on Steve’s, his eyes still closed and his breathing evening out. 

“Last time we were in hospital - ” Steve begins but Danny cuts him off.

“I remember.”

It had been over the top and cliché, but somehow still so normal for them. A bag full of shrapnel sticking out of Steve’s limbs and Danny saying, “I love you, you asshole,” with that little something else weaved in. That little _let’s be something we haven’t yet_ that turned out to be a pretty big thing in the end.

“I came from Kamekona’s,” Steve says.

“Oh?”

“He’s already put a bid on the advertising rights on your plaster.”

“What’d you say?”

“He can’t afford you.”

Danny laughs a little this time, a grunt that turns into a wheeze and he straightens up. He’s done. “You bought Charlie those markers for his birthday, remember? He’s Picasso.”

“Right,” Steve says, but his smile is thin, he knows what Danny’s thinking. “I’m gonna go find someone.”

“Thanks, babe,” Danny replies, and accepts the soft kiss Steve presses to his mouth before disappearing around the corner. Danny clenches a fist into the bed, into the place Steve had just been, and he’s alright.

It’s just his arm that’s broken, and Steve’s going to help fix that too.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://thefancyspin.tumblr.com)


End file.
